


Dinner with Friends

by Crockzilla



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comfort Food, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Peter and Wade are good bros, Pining, musical theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 17:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12658416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crockzilla/pseuds/Crockzilla
Summary: Peter and Wade cook dinner for Bucky after he's fired/quits Stark Tech.





	Dinner with Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notlucy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notlucy/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Proprietary Information](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964402) by [notlucy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notlucy/pseuds/notlucy). 



> This is a timestamp for Chapter 23 of notlucy's beautiful Proprietary Information series. 
> 
> Blessings to her for letting me have fun with her wonderful characters!!!!

“What absolute horseshit.”

Bucky laughed a little from his place on the small couch. He’d been firmly placed there after being told that no, there was nothing he could do to help with dinner because he was The Guest, so he’d resigned himself to watching as Peter and Wade cooked. “I mean, yeah,” he agreed with Wade’s assessment of his current situation.

“It’s fuckin’ white male capitalism,” Wade continued, not taking his sharp eyes off of the cream sauce he was diligently stirring. “They don’t see people as people, just goddamn numbers, and they can do whatever awful shit they want because nobody will do anything to them because the fucking _government_ is corporate –“

“Ooh, you’re getting the uncut version of the Fuck the Man speech,” Peter grinned over the lemon he was zesting. Wade attempted to swat at him without taking his focus off of his stirring, but he missed, and Peter expertly snapped a kitchen towel at his ass.

“Am I wrong?” Wade directed at Bucky.

“No, that’s – yeah, that’s pretty much the deal.”

Wade was kind of --- well, scary. And much as Bucky hated himself for thinking it, the scariness was at least partially due to the burn scars that covered his face and head, and his arms and hands judging by what Bucky could see under the sleeves of the man’s t-shirt. Bucky wasn’t sure how he’d survived whatever had happened to him.

“Don’t add too much at once or it’ll get grainy,” Peter reminded, taking over adding grated parmesan to the cream sauce.

“I’ll get _you_ grainy,” Wade threatened, leaning down to plant a kiss in Peter’s hair.

Watching them cook together was like – looking at music or something. They each knew their part, and they moved together and around each other effortlessly. Bucky wondered if he and Steve had ever looked like that, had ever fit together like that. He thought they had. He’d thought a lot of things, though. He was now thinking that maybe having dinner with the World’s Weirdest/Sweetest Couple was not such a great idea for the mental place he was currently in.

His sad-spiraling (which was happening less these days but still happening) was cut short by the smell of fresh-baked bread that instantly filled the tiny apartment when Peter opened the oven door. Peter had _made_ bread, like from flour, like with his hands, which Bucky still didn’t quite believe was a thing. Seconds later, Peter and Wade had bread, salad, and fettuccini Alfredo plated and on the tiny coffee table which they all three sat around to eat. Most importantly, they had _two_ bottles of wine, one that Peter and Wade had on hand and one that Bucky had picked up on his way over (because Winnie Barnes’s son did not show up to dinner empty handed, damnit.)

“Seriously, though,” Peter said as he refilled Bucky’s wine glass (which was actually a juice glass but still), “it’s completely ridiculous what they did to you. Have none of the higher-ups seen you with the Xerox? Do they think your tech-ineptitude is an elaborate ruse?”

“Probably,” Bucky muttered before shoving warm, cheesy, pasta-shaped comfort into his mouth, and oh, he _did_ feel a bit better suddenly.

“It’s probably one of _them_ ,” Wade offered, gesturing with his fork. “One of the big-wigs selling themselves out for stock-options or some shit.”

“Dicks,” Peter frowned, stabbing at his salad, possibly the most aggressive thing Bucky had ever seen him do. “I would quit and write an angry letter if we didn’t desperately need the money and also the insurance.”

“There are other ways to make money,” Wade muttered, which made Peter give him a side-eye, and Bucky figured that was something he probably wanted to know nothing about.

“It looks like you’ll be okay, though, right?” Bucky asked, remembering how concerned Peter had been when the Pierce debacle had happened. “Lay-offs aren’t really happening, are they?”

Peter shrugged. “Maybe not, but it’s always been kind of ridiculous for them to pay a full-time photographer, so who knows?”

“Peter’s applying to grad school,” Wade said, proudly. Peter rolled his eyes.

“Me, too!” Bucky shared. “For what?”

“Bio engineering,” Wade preened.

“Unless I get in somewhere for _free_ it’s probably not happening,” Peter deflected. “What about you?”

“I just applied to the Psych program at NYU, so --”

“Aw, you can be Science Nerd study buddies,” Wade declared.

“That’s awesome,” Peter said, encouragingly. “And for now, you’ve got the coffee shop –“

“Yeah, so that’s – it pays rent, it keeps me occupied so I don’t have to think about things,” Bucky shrugged.

“It really bugs you that much? The job thing?” Wade asked, but not in a judge-y way.

And before he could stop himself, Bucky said, “Well, and I – I split with my boyfriend, too.”

Both Wade’s and Peter’s forks froze in mid-air and they looked at him with twin expressions of sadness and concern that would have been adorable if Bucky wasn’t afraid it would make him cry (which he was _really_ sick of doing).

“Like, recently?” Peter asked.

Bucky nodded. “Like on the same day as I got fired. Or quit, I guess.”

“That fucking sucks,” Wade said, sincerely.

“Wait, do you mean – that one guy?” Peter asked. “Gus?”

“Oh, no,” Bucky fumbled, shocked that Peter remembered, “this was a new guy, different guy.”

“But it was serious,” Wade observed, and Bucky felt like the man’s very blue eyes were peering into his brain. Was he _that_ obviously lovesick?

“Is it like – _over_ over?” Peter asked, ever the optimist. “Is this maybe just a temporary break up? We broke up once.”

Wade nodded as he scooped more pasta onto Bucky’s plate, because evidently Peter’s scary badass husband was also a Food-Pusher Mom.

“Um –“ Bucky shrugged kind of helplessly. There had been a little voice in his mind, one that had grown alternately quieter and louder over the days since Steve had come to their apartment and Tasha had told him in no uncertain terms that he was to leave Bucky alone, a voice that said _maybe_. As in _maybe_ something would make it better. Maybe there was some extenuating circumstance that would excuse Steve’s behavior, or maybe something crazy would happen to bring them together again, something really dramatic like Bucky getting – kidnapped by terrorists or something that would give Steve the chance to show him that he really did love him, that it hadn’t all been bullshit.

But he couldn’t let himself hear that voice. Things were bad enough without letting himself hope, because that was tantamount to having his heart broken again every day that _maybe_ didn’t happen.

Peter and Wade seemed to infer a great deal of this, even though all Bucky had actually said was “Um.” They looked at each other and seemed to have a silent, instant conversation.

“Do you like brownies?” Peter asked, standing up with his plate.

Bucky blinked at the change in subject matter. “Yes. Are there people who _don’t_ like brownies?”

“Not in this house,” Peter said. “I’m gonna throw some brownies in the oven. You two finish eating and pick out a movie, okay?”

“See anything you like?” Wade gestured with his pasta-laden fork at their smallish movie rack, which consisted mostly of action movies and, strangely enough, musicals.

Bucky’s eyes scanned the titles until they ran across one that made his heart give a happy little leap. “Oh, _Summer Stock_!”

Wade’s eyes lit up as he stuffed an entire slice of bread into his mouth and moved toward the movie rack. “Yeah? Feelin’ some Judy and Gene?”

“I mean, if you guys want to watch it,” Bucky tried to reel in his enthusiasm as he scooted over so that Wade could reach the game console which doubled as their video player.

“No, we own it because we don’t want to watch it ever,” Wade sassed dryly as he popped in the disc. “Baby, you want us to wait for you?”

“No no,” Peter called from the kitchen (which was just the other end of the one big room that made up most of the tiny apartment), “just don’t let me miss her dancing in the suit jacket.”

“You know, she’d _just_ had a nervous breakdown when they shot this,” Wade informed him at the opening title started.

“Oh, I know,” Bucky confirmed, and the two of them ate the rest of their dinner while trading Judy trivia. Peter joined them and observed that there was “a whole lot of gay in this living room” before making them sit in complete silence for the entirety of “C’Mon Get Happy.”

The brownies were delicious. Brownies were always a good thing, but these were really yummy, and they paired perfectly with the second bottle of wine. Bucky indulged in a couple more glasses, because while _none_ of this food would exactly feed his run, he was feeling pretty a-okay. Peter started drifting off and shaking himself awake about ten minutes before the end.

“I’m gonna put him to bed,” Wade said in spite of Peter’s protests that he was totally awake. “Want to crash here?”

“Nah, I’ll grab the train,” Bucky said, moving to take dishes back into the kitchen. “Thank you so much for dinner. And wine, and musical theatre.”

“Any time,” Wade said as he pried the juice glass of wine out of Peter’s hand and brought it into the kitchen. “He loves baking and shit.”

“You two should open a restaurant,” Bucky suggested, sincerely, “with like a big 4k screen on every wall showing only Judy Garland movies.”

Wade actually laughed at that, which Bucky considered a huge accomplishment. “Hey,” Wade said as he walked him to the door, “don’t let yourself get – too down or anything, okay? Be sure you keep talking to people about how you’re doing and, you know, you’re seriously welcome over here any time.”

Wade looked kind of sheepish but primarily very, very serious. Bucky nodded and resisted the urge to give him a hug. “Thanks, Wade.”

The next morning, Peter called him to apologize for falling asleep and to say that he was very into Bucky’s restaurant concept. Bucky and Natasha tried making bread, which Tasha turned out to be really good at, because of course she was. It didn’t fix anything, but he felt like a tiny bit of the tension that was gnarled up in his chest had dissipated.

“Sometimes when you’re in a relationship,” Natasha explained to him when he expressed this to her, “you can kind of forget about how much other love you have in your life.”

Bucky hugged her and reassured her that he never forgot about her, and she blew a raspberry on his neck as punishment for being so lame.

**Author's Note:**

> Come see us on tumblr!
> 
> crockzilla.tumblr.com
> 
> notlucy.tumblr.com


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